


thick as thieves

by alohacowboy



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M, Partners in Crime, Violence, american gangsters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:27:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27174496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alohacowboy/pseuds/alohacowboy
Summary: arthur pendragon and merlin emrys are thick as thieves
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 43





	thick as thieves

**Author's Note:**

> see warning at end

The hand on his face is harsh, but Arthur just rolls his shoulders and spits blood on the floor.

'I don’t know what you’re talking about,' he says with a laugh. His suit is beyond tattered, and it’ll cost a fortune to replace. Maybe he should’ve gone with a safer alias, regardless of the diminished reward.

The second slap is less painful and more numbing, but it’s a little disconcerting that he can see stars sparking in his vision. He tries to roll his shoulders again. His breath rattles warm in his chest, his mouth tastes like blood, and when the next blow is dealt to his middle, he can’t choke back the groan.

The detective grins at the pathetic whimper that tears from his chest before he slumps in his seat and breathes, 'Fine. What do you want to know?'

'Who the hell is Merlin Emrys?'

Arthur forces a passive shrug, trying to play it off for what it isn’t. He tries to tell himself that Merlin isn’t sitting in a shitty hotel room, probably worried sick about him. He tells himself that Merlin isn’t counting the bullets in Arthur’s gun and seeing if he croaked or was captured. Hopefully, he’ll think he’s dead and not come after a still hot trail, but Arthur knows better.

So he spits some blood onto the detective’s shiny shoes and forces a grin. 'He’s my best girl.'

It earns him another slap, this time followed by an angry hand tugging at the tie that’s still miraculously wrapped around his neck. Arthur moans when the man pulls him out of his chair, breath hot and repulsive against his face when he growls, 'Nice fuckin’ try, Petrov.' He releases Arthur and slaps him again, and Arthur hears the distinct crack of his jawbone.

He wills the nausea and knee-jerk pain away as he smiles up at the detective. 'Ruadan, is it?' Arthur forces his grin to widen when the detective takes a subconscious step back. 'Have you heard of Lefay? Because she sure knows you.'

Ruadan doesn’t reach out to him; he doesn’t so much as threaten him before stomping out of the room and slamming the door shut behind him. Arthur doesn’t care that the other detectives can see him through the two-way mirror when he bows forward and hurls up half of his lunch. He does care a little when he whimpers, but the shame is worth it when a guy pushes through the door with a glass of water.

'Thanks,' Arthur mutters when he helps him up and wipes away some of the blood and vomit from his face. He parts his lips to the offered glass, so grateful for the coolness of the water that he doesn’t even think that it might be poisoned.

The man helps him to the floor and leans him against the wall, offering his jacket when Arthur shivers.

They sit in companionable silence when he finally speaks. 'Is your real name Arthur Petrov?'

Arthur snorts. 'What do you think?' Sarcasm works best to conceal truths. He looks over to the man and smiles. 'What’s your name?'

'Detective Ranulf,' he replies. He smiles back at Arthur before his gaze darts to his knees. 'Are you working with the Druids, or do you con for another group?'

'What do you know about the Druids?' Arthur is surprised that the man even knows about such groups.

He’ll have to tell Merlin all about it if he gets out of this hellhole.

'We know that you’ve been playing for at least three groups, and the only connection we can see is an artist called Emrys.'

'Merlin’s not the connection,' Arthur decides to say. Ranulf isn’t so bad for a suit; a little awkward, sure, but Arthur can’t say differently for himself. He glances up from under his eyelashes, hoping that he’s pegged the detective correctly. 'He’s the prize.' A little tongue over his lower lip, and he’s got him.

Ranulf's eyes linger on his lips for a few moments before he glances up to Arthur’s eyes. 'The prize?'

He shrugs. 'Art is currency these days, pal.'

He doesn’t mention that at least three big bosses want Merlin’s ass more than his trade. Arthur hopes Merlin’s got his semi-automatic at hand; Lefay’s been a little too schmoozy in his presence.

Ranulf shifts and pushes himself to his feet, and Arthur glances up at him, expecting to receive a kick or something. When he doesn’t, he can feel the confusion spelt out on his face, but Ranulf only laughs.

'You’ll get a phone call in a few minutes,' he says. When he reaches down a hand, Arthur takes it and lets himself be heaved to his feet. 'Ruadans's got nothing to hold you, and you’re going to need a lift back to wherever it is you go.'

Arthur nods. 'Thanks again.'

'Don’t mention it, pal,' Ranulf mutters, leading him out of the interrogation cell and down a narrow corridor. Arthur rakes his eyes over every detail, making weapons out of nothing and finding ways he can take out the man in front of him. There’s no doubt that he’s armed; Arthur saw his handgun when he shucked off his jacket. The only question is whether Arthur’s brawn will do any good against someone who hasn’t been halfway to next Sunday.

Ranulf leaves him be as he dials the numbers into the phone. It only rings twice before Merlin’s voice asks, 'Hello?'

'Sally,' Arthur breathes. Merlin suggested a woman’s name would work best for a verbal alias, and Arthur can’t get over it.

'Arthur! Where are you?' He sounds worried, relieved, and more than a little reassured all at once. Arthur doesn’t even bother quelling the grin that tugs at his lips.

'Jail,' he says. 'Gonna come pick me up, sweetheart?' 

'Yeah.' Keys jangle over the phoneline and Arthur feels himself grin wider, feels his heart rate calm back to normal. 'At central?'

Arthur nods, knowing Merlin will understand. He leans against the wall, wanting to curl up someplace warm and alone with his best guy and forget this entire smuggling business. Maybe Merlin will go along with it if he asks. He hopes so.

'All right, I’ll be down soon.' The line clicks dead.

Arthur lets Ranulf bring him to holding. He makes small talk with the guy, talking about girls, about music, about nothing in particular. He fills out the necessary paper work, indicating that he’ll come back for questioning if necessary, though they both know he’ll be long gone by the time it’s requested. By the time Merlin arrives, Arthur is halfway to believing he made a new friend.

“Just-- don’t do anything stupid, all right, Petrov?” Ranulf runs his fingers through his hair, looking genuinely worried about Arthur’s wellbeing. It brings a smile to his face, and he reaches up and pats Ranulf's cheek.

'Course I won’t. I’m the smartest guy on this side of the Atlantic.' He nods when Ranulf smiles and makes to leave.

The air is cold and reeking of industry in this part of town. Arthur spots Merlin in the junkard they bought a couple months ago and grins unabashedly. His hair is a mess, his white shirt unbuttoned and hanging loose over his slim frame. Arthur has to actively prevent himself from sprinting over and planting one on him right there in the middle of central New York.

So he slides into the passenger seat, calmly, until he looks over at Merlin and can’t help but reach over and tuck a strand of dishevelled hair behind his ear.

'Where to, buddy?' he asks, trailing his fingertips down Merlin’s cheekbone before pulling away.

Merlin blushes before answering, 'Wherever the hell we want, Arthur.'

And a week later, when they’re spread sweaty and breathless in a hotel, Arthur can only agree that they’re where they should be, together and in each other’s arms. And if that means faking names and threatening bankers, Arthur can’t say he’s too objectionable.

**Author's Note:**

> arthur suffers (non-sexual) physical assault


End file.
